


It's Brilliant

by Sherlock1110, sherlockian4evr



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Developing Relationship, Developing mystrade, Flirting, M/M, Smooth Lestrade, Socially Awkward Mycroft
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-03
Updated: 2016-07-15
Packaged: 2018-07-19 21:52:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7378681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sherlock1110/pseuds/Sherlock1110, https://archiveofourown.org/users/sherlockian4evr/pseuds/sherlockian4evr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mycroft tries to get close to Lestrade so he can get information on Sherlock. Completely unexpectedly, he finds himself falling for him. Hard. (You know the staple 'Sherlock has never cared for anyone before John and so his feelings come as a complete shock'? Basically I want that with Mycroft/Lestrade. Because our favourite umbrella twirling villain is a sociopath as well!)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I Was Serious

Greg looked up from his desk at the sound of a man clearing his throat. "Can I help you?" he asked of the ridiculously posh man. At his words, the man stepped into his office.

"Detective Sergeant Lestrade. Allow me to introduce myself. I'm Mycroft Holmes." Mycroft didn't extend his hand in greeting, simply ground the tip of his umbrella into the carpet. "I wondered if you might have a few minutes to talk?"

"Well… yes… hang on. Holmes?"

"Sherlock's brother, yes. I understand he has forced himself upon you."

"Not at all. My last few cases wouldn't have been solved at all, yet alone so quickly."

"He's been happier at home."

"Alright," Greg said uncertainly. "That's good. He's an interesting kid. I kind of like him." He leaned back in his chair. This older Holmes was making him nervous, standing as he was. "Won't you have a seat?"

Mycroft gave the DS a thin smile. "You haven't called him 'kid' to his face, I trust."

"God, no!" The DS laughed. "I can just imagine how that would go over."

"Yes, doesn't have the best reaction. Our parents have tried it. I was coming to enquire into what you were planning to do with him?"

"Do with him?" Greg said, genuinely surprised. "I don't plan on 'doing' anything with him." He narrowed his eyes. "Ah. That. Look, Sherlock and I have an understanding. If he stays clean, he gets to help me with my more interesting cases. If not, he doesn't."

"And you trust him."

"I trust his curiosity. I hope to trust him some day."

Mycroft found himself intrigued. Lestrade was unlike anyone his brother had come into contact with from the police force. Perhaps he would prove to be useful.

"Would you please sit down?" Greg offered again. He wasn't going to say he was making him nervous as he was a moment ago, but if this man had the deduction skills of his little brother he probably already knew it.

With another thin smile, Mycroft finally sat. The fact that the DS had asked him yet again to have a seat was yet another intriguing point. Most people tried to get rid of him as soon as possible. "When your superiors become... disgruntled at my brother's antics, call this number." The government official handed Lestrade a card with a phone number on it and nothing more. "I shall see to it that your career is not adversely affected."

"He's not that bad," the younger man countered.

Mycroft raised an eyebrow. That alone told him this man was extremely worthy of his baby brother's attention. "To you maybe. But he'll come across someone else that will no doubt rub him up the wrong way and then all hell will break loose."

"Ah, there is Sally Donovan. They've already had some… altercations."

Mycroft laughed dryly. "Who is this woman?"

"An aspiring PC, it won't be long until she's in my department, I would imagine. Sherlock will love that."

"It doesn't bother you that there will be friction?" Mycroft asked.

"I'd be a fool if I said it didn't, but it's nothing I can't cope with. Sally is good at what she does, but she can be abrasive. And Sherlock, well, he's bloody brilliant. Not that I'll tell him that. It'll be worth it."

Mycroft nodded once and then rose again, he thudded the floor with his umbrella. "Well, don't forget to ring me, should my brother be too much trouble."

"Are you sure you don't want a coffee first?"

Eyes going wide in surprise, Mycroft paused. He had never in all his life been asked such a question. He was at a loss as to how to respond.

"Of course our coffee is more like tar than coffee," Greg admitted. He glanced at his watch. "But there's a coffee shop just down the block if you'd care to join me for a cup?"

"Er…" another occurrence in his life that had never happened before; that word, if you could call it a word, but not only that, he was speechless!

"Of course, Sergeant," he decided on eventually.

"Greg," the DS countered immediately.

The government official watched, bemused, as Lestrade stood and pulled on his coat. He twirled his umbrella nervously. Belatedly, it occurred to him to offer, "You may call me Mycroft." Greg beamed at him and it took his breath away. It took his breath away so much that he took a step back.

"Shall we stroll or shall I go around and get the car?" The DS offered.

"No need."

A quick text was sent off and in moments a black BMW pulled up beside the curb.

"This is yours?"

Mycroft actually blushed. "It's a small perk of my job."

"And what is that, exactly?"

"I hold a minor position in the British Government," Mycroft said, dismissively. "Transport. Terribly boring."

"That's the first time you've actually sounded anything like your brother," Greg said with a grin as Mycroft actually held the back door open for him.

The government official chuckled nervously. "Heaven forfend I sound like Sherlock." He slid into the car next to the DS.

"Don't worry, I won't hold it against you. I sound like my sister from time to time."

Mycroft looked up and down as if for the first time. "Sister. Older. 3 years. Med student."

"How did you-"

"She couldn't hack life in the police and hated it when you did well… she went for another respectable career choice."

Greg didn't even blink. He had seen Sherlock perform such feats often enough by now. He made a deduction of his own, "You taught him that, didn't you?" The DS was grinning.

"Maybe. But my father taught me. Well, he used to point to people and say 'what do you see?' when we were in really public places. Mummy used to go mad. It wasn't until I started school at 10 that I realised it was the fastest way to make people leave."

The DS threw back his head and laughed. "I could have used that trick a few times myself."

"It doesn't bother you?" Mycroft was surprised. He hadn't meant to deduce Greg's sister, the habit was so ingrained that it had just come out. He liked to think he was getting better at it, though.

"No. I think it's brilliant."

Mycroft smiled.

"I usually stare at your brother for a while as if he's making it up and then he usually loses me as he tries to explain how he got to that conclusion."

"Sherlock likes to show off. He probably runs through it so fast you can only hear about half of what he's saying."

"True." Greg laughed. "But enough about your brother. I didn't ask you to coffee to talk about him."

Mycroft was spared from answering by the car stopping at their destination.

"Are you usually this lazy, Mr. Holmes?" Greg asked light-heartedly.

"I don't know what you mean."

The DS held his hands up, "hey, it's not like I declined a lift for half a mile, is it?"

Mycroft had no idea what to say to that. "I don't understand you, Gregory."

"Give it time," the DS said, "you will."

A sudden thought occurred to Mycroft as they entered the coffee shop. "Are you flirting with me?"

"Yes, but apparently I'm not doing a very good job of it."

Mycroft laughed nervously and stepped back out the door.

Confused, Greg followed. "What's wrong?"

"It's not that you're not good at it, Gregory, it's… never mind."

"Please, if I've offended you somehow-"

"No!" Mycroft exclaimed, then he said more softly, "No. I'm just not very good at this sort of thing."

"That's fine. All you have to do is drink a cup of coffee with me. That's all."

"That's it?"

Greg nodded. "That's it."

"But what about talking about stuff?"

Greg laughed. "You really aren't good at this, are you? Stop worrying. It's only coffee," he pushed the door open for the older man.

Mycroft stepped in hesitantly. He was suddenly very nervous. Why would someone as handsome as this DS be flirting with someone as uninteresting as he was? He knew he was plain looking and his personality was… off putting, though in a different way than his brother's was. Either way, he didn't care, he found himself - for the first time since his brother - actually wanting to have a conversation with someone about something other than the government."

The DS looked at the posh government official. "Have you ever actually been to a coffee shop?" Mycroft's blush was answer enough. "Have a seat. I'll order for us. Be right back."

Mycroft admired the posterior view he got as Gregory walked away. It was really quite nice. He made a point of looking elsewhere when he reappeared with two mugs on a tray.

"One latte. And one cappuccino for you."

"How did you-"

"Deduced it," the DS said with a smirk.

Mycroft burst out laughing. "Touché, Gregory." He sipped his cappuccino. It was surprisingly good or perhaps it was the company. "How did you go from a punk biker to a DS at the Yard," Mycroft mused out loud.

Greg raised an eyebrow. "Um… my sister wasn't doing very well. Managed 3 years as a PC, but wanted to be a detective. I guess it was a competition as kids and when I realised what was happening, I studied hard and went straight into the detective side of the Met. She wasn't impressed and I won that round," he finished with a chuckle. Then he turned the tables. "How do you become a minor government official in transport?" Not that Greg believed it for a minute.

"Ah." Mycroft studied his nails for a moment. "I've always had a protective streak for those I care about. I've done my best to put myself in a position to be able to endure it."

"In transport." Greg laughed, raising his hands placatingly. "I'll ask no more questions along those lines. So why does Sherlock live with you then?"

Mycroft opened his mouth and then closed it again, thinking. It was a touchy subject, but he didn't find himself not wanting to talk about it with the other man. "You're aware of the drugs obviously…" he began. "I was unsatisfied with the way our parents handled it. I let him graduate from Oxford and then dragged him to rehab. His only options were to come out and to me. Or stay there."

Greg sipped at his latte. "You weren't kidding. You really do care. That's a huge responsibility you've taken on. That's an appealing trait." He gave Mycroft a smile.

The government official blushed at the compliment.

Greg leaned forward and whispered confidentially, "You know, that's actually incredibly sexy when you do that."

Mycroft laughed out loud, and had to hush himself to stop attracting attention to them, but before he had a chance to reply the door opened.

"Are you spying on me?" Sherlock growled.

"Hello, brother-mine. I merely introduced myself to DS Lestrade. I wasn't 'spying'."

"Not everything is about you, Sherlock," Greg said, amused. "If your brother were merely spying would I do this?" He reached across the table and grasped Mycroft's hand.

Mycroft had to try extremely hard to not flinch back nor act surprised. He either failed or Sherlock's deduction powers were on top form.

"You met less than an hour ago! And he's already been in your car."

"A fact, brother-mine, which is none of your business."

"He's my DS," Sherlock complained.

Greg gave the younger Holmes a hard look. "I don't belong to anyone, thank you. Now, kindly excuse us. I was about to ask your brother on a date."

This time Mycroft couldn't contain himself, he found himself choking on nothing. "Gregory," he huffed.

Sherlock paced across the room and smacked his brother on the back hard.

"My brother doesn't 'date', Lestrade. Don't waste your time."

Mycroft shot Sherlock a glare. "Gregory, please ignore my brother and ask your question."

The DS grinned. Turning his full attention on the handsome man before him, he asked, "Mycroft, would you like to go out on a date with me tomorrow night? Dinner, perhaps?"

"Of course, Gregory, I would be delighted."

Sherlock's mouth opened and closed like a goldfish for a moment.

Mycroft looked over his shoulder. "Do not even think of causing carnage so one or both of us is called into work, little brother!"

After another moment of stunned gawping, Sherlock threw up his hands, spun about and stormed from the shop.

Greg and Mycroft looked at each other and broke down into helpless giggles. The government official couldn't remember the last time he had laughed so freely. It felt wonderful.

When the laughter had died down, the DS gave Mycroft a considering look. "You do realise that I was serious. I want to take you out on that date."

Mycroft blushed and looked down at his hands. "I was deadly serious when I accepted."


	2. You're Different from )the Rest

"Good." Greg grinned. "I'm guessing clubs aren't your thing, so I'll go easy on you and not suggest that. Have you ever done dinner and a movie?"

Mycroft didn't meet the DS's eye.

"Hey, it's cool. Would you be up for that?"

Mycroft nodded, still unsure but willing at least.

"Friday evening?"

"Do we have to wait so long? I'm free tonight."

Greg grinned. "As a matter of fact, so am I."

The door swung open and they glanced up.

Greg's fist hit the table. "What is it Sally?"

"Just a heads up. There's a strange case coming your way. It's one that freak kid you let hang around would like."

Greg grimaced and glanced at Mycroft whose face was blank. "Sally, this is Mycroft... Holmes. Sherlock's brother."

Mycroft stood up and so did Greg.

Hesitantly he reached over and placed a hand on the government official's shoulder. "Myc-"

Mycroft ducked under his hand and walked over to Donovan. The smile Mycroft gave Sally was cold. "Sergeant Donovan. How good to meet you."

Sally took a step back under the force of his stare. "Mr. Holmes."

"My little brother may be… different, but he most definitely is not a freak," he hissed.

She took another step back. "I…"

Greg considered intervening, but he was actually enjoying seeing Sally put in her place on this one matter. Maybe it would make a difference, at least for a while.

"Yes, sir." She finally got out before turning and fleeing.

Greg smiled as he went to join Mycroft, and he reached him quick enough to hear his quiet sigh.

The government official turned to look at him. "I'm sorry, Gregory-"

"Don't be." Greg shrugged. "I keep hoping she'll come around someday. Anyway. Shall we?" He gestured towards the door. "I'll walk you to the cars."

As they walked, they agreed that Mycroft would pick Greg up around 7:00 at his flat. The government official stepped into his car and smiled as the door was shut. He wasn't entirely certain what had just happened, but he was intrigued and a bit unsettled.

Greg climbed into the panda that Donovan was waiting in.

She opened her mouth immediately, but the DS held his finger up. "Do not even think about it, you deserved that."

Sally didn't say anything as she pulled into traffic. In fact she was quiet for several blocks. When she did speak, it was to ask, "What did he want, anyway?"

Greg raised an eyebrow at her. "He was checking up on his brother. We ended up in a coffee shop," he smirked.

"No. No, no, no." Sally was shaking her head. "Tell me you were just talking about the freak, not," she made a gagging sound, "flirting."

So much for her not calling Sherlock names anymore.

Greg raised an eyebrow. "And if we were flirting?"

"I don't want to know about it."

Greg really needed to do something  
About the way she spoke about and to Sherlock. Especially if he was now dating his older very powerful brother. Could he call it dating? They hadn't even met for one yet. "Then shut up."

* * *

Later that evening, Mycroft was trying to select something to wear on his date with Gregory. He had changed clothes three times, not knowing what was appropriate attire to wear to a movie. He thought about calling his brother, but knew he would never hear the end of it, besides, what did Sherlock know about such things? Sod it, he thought. He snatched up his phone.

"Anthea."

"Mr. Holmes? Aren't you supposed to be at home?"

"I am. I'm stuck."

"Oh, Mr. Holmes." Her voice was warm, not her usual MI5 all-business-voice at all. "You have no idea what to wear on your date, do you?"

Mycroft sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "That is correct."

"Give me 10 minutes, Mr. Holmes. Let me finish up here."

"Thank you." He rang off.

By the time she arrived, he had gone through two more changes of clothes. He answered the door looking absolutely panicked. "I should call and cancel, Anthea. I don't know why I bothered you."

She laughed and shooed him back into the house. She was barely more than a teenager herself and this was her boss, an aspiring politician.

She couldn't help but smirk at him in such a panicked state.

"Sir, do you own anything that isn't a suit?"

He shook his head. "No. Why would I?"

"I thought not. That's why I brought this." Anthea held up a bag. She had prepared for this earlier in the day when she had heard about her employer's date. "Go put these on!"

Mycroft glanced at the jeans in the bag. "I can't-"

"Ok, then try these." She stepped outside and pulled a pair of deep blue trousers in that she'd hung on the empty hanging basket.

Mycroft pulled off the cover. "I own these…"

"You own black or grey. These are better." She sidestepped him and looked through his massive wardrobe… she was right all the trousers were identical, she looked up at some shirts and pulled down a pale blue one that she had never seen him in.

The government official frowned at it, used Anthea's own sidestepping technique to look for a tie.

Anthea actually batted his hand away. "No waistcoat, either. Now go get changed."

He just frowned until she smirked. "Shoo," she waved him into the bathroom.

Once Mycroft had changed, he looked in the mirror. He felt half dressed. Worse than that, he thought he looked too tall and thick around the waist.

Anthea smiled when her employer reappeared. He looked so nice, handsome, in fact and far less uptight. "Perfect." She caught him eyeing the ties. "Sorry, sir, but I absolutely forbid it." Mycroft actually chuckled, but it was nervous. "You look great."

"But-"

She held her finger up and began tapping on her phone again. "The cars here, sir," she said a moment later.

Mycroft's hands moved as if to straighten his nonexistent waistcoat, but he caught himself and dropped them to his sides. "Thank you, Anthea."

"You're welcome, sir. Now go and have a good time."

He nodded and, as if headed into battle, walked outside and got in the waiting car. Anthea, smiling, locked up behind him. None of this had been in the job description, she noted, but she didn't mind, in fact it was nice that her boss trusted her so.

Mycroft didn't know what to do with his hands. He usually smoothed his jacket or waistcoat. He laced his fingers together and stared out the window. Hopefully, he would be less nervous when the car arrived at Greg's flat.

He had meant to get out to greet the DS, but he was so dazed the first he knew of their arrival was when the side door opened and he climbed in.

"Imagine meeting you here," Greg quipped as he closed the door and buckled himself in. "You look nice."

He thought Mycroft didn't look so stiff, but he did seem a bit nervous. The man needed to relax. He didn't know why he did it but he slid across the seat and rested his head on Mycroft's shoulder.

The government official almost yelped. No one had ever done anything like that to him. He had no idea what to make of it. "Gregory, is this a normal sort of thing for a first date?"

The DS sat back up, chuckling to himself. "Not at this stage, no, but you looked so nervous. I had to do something... Sorry."

"No. It was fine. I think I liked it." Mycroft felt his face heating, he couldn't be blushing, absolutely not.

Greg shrugged. "Does it matter?"

Mycroft was stuck for a response.

"I havent dated a guy since I left school so we can do what we want."

The government official gave a surprised chuckle. "I rather like that idea. So do we eat first or see the movie?"

"Since I haven't had lunch, I'm for eating. But I get to pick where." Greg thought for a minute, then grinned. "I know just the place." He almost climbed over the seat in front of him and whispered an address to the driver.

"Do not say McDonalds, Gregory."

He laughed again. "Nope. KFC."

Mycroft went to open his mouth, but noticed the younger man's smirk.

"It's a secret," Greg said firmly.

They stopped outside a very small, almost hidden pizzaria. It was a family owned place that the DS had been coming to for years, since he had been a teenager, actually.

Mycroft saw the look and smirked.

"Sentiment, Gregory?"

"Hmm? I guess so. I have a lot of good memories of this place." He opened the door and waited for Mycroft to step out. "And it's the best pizza in the world, besides." Greg pointed to a sign in the window proclaiming it so.

The government official inclined his head. "Sherlock likes pizza, I might be able to make him actually eat if I bring him here."

The DS held the door open for Mycroft to enter. "Of course, I'm breaking the first rule of dating by bringing you here."

"What's that?"

"Never have pizza on a first date. There's simply no elegant way to eat it."

"Even more reason to bring my brother here."

Greg chuckled as a waiter took them to their table.

"You'd already booked," Mycroft deduced immediately.

"Yep." Greg held out a chair for Mycroft as he took a seat then seated himself. He held up two fingers to the waiter. "Two of my usual." Then he looked at the menu. "What shall we have to eat?"

Mycroft had raised an eyebrow. "What is your usual?"

"My favourite beer. They don't serve wine here. I thought I'd order for both of us. Is that alright?"

"Very."

Greg smiled. "I'm supposing you've never had beer before?"

Mycroft blushed furiously.

"Thought not." Greg sat back as the waiter set two beers on the table between them.

"Are you ready to order?" the waiter asked.

The DS frowned. "Oh, we haven't even looked at the menu."

"Allow me, Gregory." Mycroft looked Greg up and down once. "We would like a large pizza with a paper thin crust. Beef, ham, pepperoni, hot peppers, onions... and mushrooms."

Greg poked his tongue out. "Half without the mushrooms."

Mycroft laughed as the waiter walked away.

"I like that, your laugh," the DS told his date. "It's nice."

That was something Mycroft was certain he had never been told before. How strange that this man could say such things and sound sincere.

"You're giving me that look again." Greg said softly, glad they were alone once more.

"What look?"

"The surprised I even exist look."

"Well, it does seem improbable." Mycroft took a sip of the beer, then looked at it strangely. He wasn't sure if he liked it or not.

Greg saw his face, after watching him closely and he burst out laughing, more than glad his own beer hadn't been tasted yet. "It's something of an acquired taste," the DS acknowledged.

"As is all alcohol." Mycroft tried it again, his nose wrinkling this time. "But pizza is universal." He hesitated. "Seriously, Gregory, pizza must be all we have in common."

Greg raised an eyebrow, he could see what Mycroft was thinking but clearly this time around the other man was struggling. The problem was, the sense of awe he read on Mycroft's face was no different to what he was feeling himself. But for a change the Holmes couldn't see it.

Maybe he'd have to be the one to take the lead. Again. "I don't know, thankless jobs, long, unpredictable work hours, a drive to make a difference. I think maybe we have some things in common, once you get past the surface differences." The DS certainly hoped so. It would be exciting to find out.

Mycroft seemed more confused than ever. He felt the need to voice something that, at the time he wouldn't have dreamed of telling the younger man. "I had to have help to pick something to wear tonight. From my PA."

Greg didn't laugh. He could sense the underlying vulnerability behind the other man's words. "Well, it certainly paid off. I enjoyed the view as I followed you into the restaurant. You may have to give that PA of yours a raise."

The tenseness he'd been feeling almost floated away as Greg reached over and took his hand. "Stop worrying about things. Everything is fine. More than fine."

The pizza showed up and the DS served them each a slice. Greg dived in, picking up his slice and eating it without utensils. Mycroft cut his slice into small pieces and ate it with a fork. Their eyes met and they started giggling.

Mycroft felt like all he had done was prove his point further. "See, we couldn't be any different."

Frowning the DS leant over and snatched his cutlery away. "Eat it like a real man."

When the government official picked up a bit of pizza and popped it into his mouth, he felt like a rebel. It was ridiculous and glorious and... fun. And he could see exactly why Sherlock was always so much of a messy sod around him.

He smiled at Gregory. "What movie tonight then?"

"GoldenEye. The new Bond film."

"Those aren't very realistic, Gregory, or so I've been told."

The DS laughed. "They're not supposed to be. Bond films are meant to be fun." He paused. "Wait a minute. You've never seen one, have you?"

"Well…"

Greg laughed.

"Have you ever actually seen a film?"

"Do educational films count?"

"Definitely not." The DS nodded as if having made a decision. "Then we have to do the movie all the way. Drinks and popcorn with so much butter it's swimming in it."

"Ew, Gregory."

"Why do you insist on calling me Gregory?"

Mycroft shrugged.

"You can call me Greg like everyone else does."

"I don't think so." Mycroft looked down at his hands, then up at his date. "There are innumerable Gregs in this world, all of them quite ordinary. You are not ordinary, Gregory Lestrade. I don't know why, you should be..." He shook his head, not understanding it himself. "You're different from the rest."

"And you're not?"

Mycroft inclined his head. "I suppose."

"Definitely. You and your brother."

Mycroft's eyes twinkled with mirth. "That's not some sort of kinky hint is it?" He couldn't believe he'd just said that.

Greg threw his head back and laughed. "God, no!" He sobered. "But you are different and I like it."

The waiter brought the check over and Mycroft reached for it, but Greg beat him to it. "I'm buying tonight. You can buy next time."

Next time. Mycroft liked the sound of that.


End file.
